Ice Trekkin'
by Diegorules483
Summary: Star Trek TOS/Ice Age. Not a sequel to my story, Softie's Best Christmas Present. Captain Kirk is facing a new, mysterious enemy, who is preying on ships near the Betelgeuse Nebula. Kirk must enlist the help of the Sub-Zero heroes to beat this enemy...who is familiar to the prehistoric group. Rated K plus for language and injury, just in case. Please review if you like it! :-)
1. Prologue 1

_22 March 2268AD Martinique, Caribbean Sea  
Stardate 4209.082_

* * *

_A tiny ice-cube floated through the turquoise tropical sea. One might wonder where the ice block had come from. After all, it was a scorching hot day in the Caribbean. Icebergs usually didn't even drift much further south than New York. _

_What was even stranger was that there were two objects preserved in the ice. One was a large, treacle-brown acorn. The other was a grey-furred, bushy-tailed squirrel-like creature; a sabre-tooth squirrel…known as Scrat. _

_Ever since he had been fast-frozen almost 20,000 years ago, trying to reach an acorn under a thick sheet of ice, he had been trapped inside a glacier. Only recently had his iceberg split off the land and floated out to sea. _

_The ice block slowly drifted towards a large tropical island, covered with tropical coconut palms. Finally, it washed up on a wide sandy beach and beached itself on the sand. _

_Slowly, under the hot tropical sun, the ice began to melt. Scrat and his acorn were exposed to the air for the first time in thousands of years. As more and more of his body was freed from its icy prison, Scrat tried to reach out for his acorn. It was so tantalisingly close, yet his claws could not even reach its smooth surface._

_As its encasing layer of ice slowly melted away, the acorn tumbled onto the sand/ Straightaway, a wave swept up the beach, picking up the acorn…_

…_and washing it out to sea._

_Scrat's eyes bulged as he watched his acorn disappear into the turquoise Caribbean. Letting out a tortured scream, he completely broke free of the ice cube and raced blindly up the beach._

WHAM!

_The grief-stricken squirrel smacked straight into a tall palm tree with such force that the tree toppled over and crashed into the sand. _

_Scrat, clutching his aching head, stared down at the toppled tree. What had he done now? What was going to happen?_

_Instantly, a crack rushed inland from the fallen tree, weaving through the tropical forest and searing rocks in half. It whipped up the rocky slopes of a large volcano that towered over the island._

_With a pop, the crack broke through the lava dome that blocked the crater and disappeared into the depths of the mountain._

_There was an ominous rumble._

_Then, with an explosion that echoed across the entire island, the volcano erupted. A huge column of black ash burst out of the crater and began to stain the clear blue sky, while a huge avalanche of red-hot rocks and poisonous gases rolled down its slopes…directly towards Scrat._

_The sabre-tooth squirrel let out a strangled whimper. Why did this always happen to him?_


	2. Prologue 2: A Terrible Turn of Events

March 9 2268 Betelgeuse Nebula, Alpha Quadrant

Stardate 4209.069

The USS_ Cassiopeia_ coasted through the cold, dark abyss of space. Her silver, circular hull, cylindrical shuttlebay, and long warp nacelle stood out against the endless black background.

The _Cassiopeia_ was a _Kelvin_-class starship of the United Federation of Planets. The _Kelvin_-class starships were one of the most numerous vessels in the Federation's navy of spacecraft, known as Starfleet, due to their speed, manoeuvrability, and multiple configurations. Some were training ships, others were escorts and patrol vessels. Since her commissioning in 2229, the _Cassiopeia_ had always been a research ship.

On her current mission, the _Cassiopeia_ was headed to the remote planet of Alnilam C, where scientists would observe the effects of high oxygen levels in the air on the growth of several fruit trees.

To get to the Alnilam system without passing through the Klingon Neutral Zone and violating the Neutral Zone Treaty, however, the USS _Cassiopeia_ had to fly around the outer edge of the Betelgeuse Nebula.

This nebula had been formed a few years previously, when the red supergiant star Betelgeuse had blasted out a huge cloud of gas into the space around it. The ionised gas played havoc with the navigation systems, sensors, and shields on board starships.

Like all other vessels, the _Cassiopeia_ followed a route around the edge of the ever-expanding bubble of hydrogen. Her leisurely pace allowed astronomers and off-duty crew on board observed the huge brown and blue cloud through telescopes and on viewscreens. Through the thick fog of ionised gas, the crimson glow of the Betelgeuse Star itself could be seen.

It was a perfectly normal trip for the _Cassiopeia_ and her crew. Little did they know it would also be their last…

* * *

"Captain!" exclaimed the Vulcan Science Officer T'Palgov. "I am picking up something on my sensors!"

Captain Bruce Carter swivelled around in his chair to face his science officer. "What is it?"

The Vulcan turned back to her screens, analysing the multiple readouts. "It's a debris field, sir. Approximately 3219m by 2873m by 1198m."

"Inform Starfleet Base of this debris field," Carter ordered to Communications Officer, J'Varogu, a short, three eyed, rough-skinned K'nare from the planet Gliese 581G. "We're going in to investigate." Then he turned to his helmsman, Arnold Campbell. "Mr Campbell, plot a course towards the debris field."

"Aye, sir," the helmsman replied, typing away on his touchscreens as he manoeuvred the _Cassiopeia _towards the huge cloud of wreckage.

* * *

Slowly, the debris field grew closer and closer... but suddenly, another sensor on the science console beeped for attention. T'Palgov instantly checked the corresponding readout.

"Interesting…" she murmured.

"What is it?" Bruce Carter asked.

"I'm not sure, Captain," she replied, her upswept eyebrows furrowing in concentration. "But it is located inside the nebula."

"On screen!" barked the captain.

The viewscreen at the front of the bridge flicked to another view, showing the glowing, swirling, multi-coloured nebula. Everything seemed normal…except for a strange silhouette standing out against the glowing clouds.

Slowly, the shadow became clearer and clearer. Then, something emerged from the cloud of gas.

First, a pointed bridge emerged…then two long wings…and finally, the engines of a gigantic, pitch-black warbird emerged out of the nebula, heading straight for the USS _Cassiopeia_.

The whole ship looked like it had been carved out of obsidian. It was shiny black all over, almost as black as space itself. All over its hull and wings were icicle-like formations, looking suspiciously like phaser barrels as they jutted outwards from the vessel. No lights emitted from the vessel.

All eyes turned to the approaching ship on the viewscreen in the bridge.

"Is it Klingon?" enquired Campbell

"Can't be," Captain Carter muttered. "I've never seen any Klingon or Romulan ship that big. Hell, I've never seen or heard of _any _ship that size!"

"We could be seeing a ship of an entirely new race," T'Palgov suggested. "It's ornamental design features are unidentifiable with any known race in the galaxy, although its basic shape does suggest Klingon origin."

Bruce Carter nodded. The Vulcans were a highly intelligent and logical race, and T'Palgov was a perfect Vulcan woman.

"Mr Campbell, keep on current course," he ordered to the helmsman. Then he turned to J'Varogu. "Mr J'Varogu, hail this vessel. Standard first contact procedures, please."

"Aye, sir." J'Varogu tapped his touchscreen console to send out the standard friendly greeting message.

But the giant black starship merely drifted closer still.

"No response, sir," J'Varogu responded. "Trying again on a different frequ..."

_BOOM!_

Suddenly, an explosion rocked the ship. Red lights started flashing, bathing the normally white bridge in an eerie red glow.

"What was that?!" Captain Carter snapped.

T'Palgov checked her sensors. "Sir! The vessel has just fired a photon torpedo! She's firing an…"

_BOOM!_

A second blast shook the bridge.

"Raise our shields!" yelled the captain, clutching the armrests of his chair as the bridge rocked back and forth.

"We can't!" screamed another officer. "They've knocked them out!"

"Fire back!" ordered Carter.

The officer struggled with his controls. "Our weapons have no effect, sir! Their shields are still at ful…"

With a blinding flash, the officer's console exploded. He flew backwards over his chair, and crashed to the ground. The officer didn't move.

He was dead.

* * *

Captain Bruce Carter stared at the viewscreen, where the enemy ship was now firing a barrage of phaser fire.

"Mr Wilson!" he bellowed through the communicator in his chair. "Can you get us out of here?"

"No chance, sir!" screamed Ray Wilson, the _Cassiopeia's _chief engineer. "Those shots have disabled both the warp cores and the impulse drive! We're a sitting duck, sir!"

Suddenly, another voice burst through the speakers, interrupting the engineer.

"Sir!"

"Who is it?" Bruce asked.

"Chief Gardener Debbie Rhy!"

"What happened?"

"Our fruit trees! They were just beamed out of here! They're gone!"

'_Curiouser and curiouser,' _thought the captain.

He turned back to the Vulcan officer. "T'Palgov, the enemy seemed to want our fruit trees. Why do you think they wanted them?"

"There are many likely possibilities," T'Palgov replied. "Perhaps they have run o…"

But Captain Bruce Carter never got to hear his science officer's suggestion. For the Bird-of-Prey had fired another photon torpedo. And it was heading straight for the bridge.

Everybody stared at the growing, pulsating green ball on the viewscreen. It grew larger and larger.

Members of the surviving crew started to scream and wail.

But Bruce Carter stayed calm, even as his death approached.

He merely closed his eyes and accepted his doom.

Then the torpedo impacted.

The bridge turned to fire. There was a stab of agony.

Then there was nothing.

* * *

Another volley of torpedoes burst from the obsidian-black Bird-of-Prey. They zoomed towards the rear of the _Cassiopeia's_ hull, and impacted directly on the still, running fusion reactors.

The entire ship blew up in a flash.

The battered hull, the large shuttlebay section, and the broken warp nacelle disappeared in a huge fireball. Shattered and charred pieces of the hull flew out of the explosion. Even for those in the surviving shuttles and escape pods, there was no chance of survival.

And when the fireball vanished, the only things that betrayed the former existence of the _Cassiopeia_ and her crew was a small cloud of debris.

* * *

This scene of destruction was observed by a figure sitting in the captain's chair of the enemy ship.

Any onlooker would not be able to identify what species this figure was. It was completely hidden in shadow…save for one four fingered hand, another hand with one finger missing, and a metal replacement leg.

With one hand, the figure reached down towards a glass tank. A narwhal swam up through the water and surfaced, its head reaching out towards the extended hand.

The figure stroked the narwhal's head, which crooned contentedly.

"What a terrible turn of events," the figure said in an unforgiving, unmerciful voice. "I so love a terrible turn of events."

Then he let out a laugh. A pure evil laugh that echoed throughout the ship and struck fear into the hearts of all who heard it.

* * *

**Guess who that figure is!**

**Please review if you like it!**


	3. Prologue 3: Predictions and Psychology

March 15 17,732BC Anakoha Bay, Queen Charlotte Sound, New Zealand

* * *

Sid the sloth woke up with a start.

Letting out a yelp, he sat bolt upright on his sleeping rock and looked frantically about.

He was back at the edge of the clearing where his herd slept. It was just before dawn. Sid could tell by the lightening sky and glowing clouds, tinted orange on their eastward side. Birds sung merrily in the tall beech trees.

Sid sighed, and tapped the side of his triangular head thoughtfully. He had been having a very strange dream.

* * *

_It had started off with a brilliant flash of light. As soon as the light had vanished, Sid had found himself in a strange metal room. He was standing on one of six circles on a raised platform. A blonde haired human in red clothing had looked up at the sloth and given him a respectful salute._

_Sid had then made his way to a big circular room, where many humans sat at desks with lots of flashing lights and screens. _

_Three humans had stood in a group just to Sid's left. One of them was wearing blue, and had brown hair and a serious face. Another also wore a blue uniform, but had black hair and strange, pointy ears. The last had blonde hair and wore a decorated yellow suit. _

_The two men in blue had been deeply engaged in conversation. _

"_I'm a doctor, Spock, not a physicist!" the serious man had said. _

"_That may be so, Dr McCoy," the pointy-eared man had said, "but surely it is simple to see…"_

_Suddenly, the yellow-suited man had glanced in the watching sloth's direction. _

"_Sid!" he had smiled._

_Instantly, 'Spock' and 'Dr McCoy' had looked over to the sloth. The doctor's grouchy face had transformed into a friendly smile, while 'Spock' had lifted his right hand in a strange salute, with the middle and ring fingers separated. Sid had returned the salute as best as he could, for he only had four claws on each hand. _

_Then the sloth had turned to the man in yellow. "Captain Kirk…" he had begun, wondering how the heck he knew that man's name. _

"_Jim," the captain had corrected. "We're friends, Sid. Call me Jim."_

_Then the scene had dissolved. _

_The sloth had found himself flying through the stars, beside a sleek ivory starship. He had felt exhilarated as he glided beside that beautiful creation._

_Then the ship had exploded. _

_In fact, everything had exploded. And through the cloud of flames, Sid had heard an evil laugh, as a familiar face flew at him through the fire…_

* * *

'_No!'_ Sid thought. _'He's dead. He's gone. He can't hurt us anymore.'_

But the rest of the dream had been so fascinating, and almost…real. He had felt like he had known the humans very well. And the yellow-suited man, Jim Kirk, had said they were friends.

Sid so desperately wanted to tell somebody about his dream. But who?

There was Manny, a chocolate-furred woolly mammoth. One of the original three members of the herd, he had rescued Sid countless times from angry rhinos, lava rivers, dinosaurs, and pirates. However, he was fast asleep, and Sid knew better than to wake up his pal. Manny could get quite annoyed when aroused from a deep sleep.

Ellie, Manny's tan-furred mate, was very gentle in comparison. She treated Sid like a surrogate son. She often (but not always) understood him. However, she was asleep as well. And Ellie was impossible to wake up once she fell asleep. Plus, Sid could hardly reach her, as Ellie liked to sleep upside down, hanging from a tree branch by her tail.

Peaches, Manny and Ellie's teenage mammoth daughter, was asleep next to her mother. She had stayed up late with her friends the previous evening, and so she needed a long rest. Sid wasn't going to deprive her of that. He knew exactly what not getting enough sleep felt like.

Ellie's possum 'brothers', Crash and Eddie, were no help at all when it came to psychology. They would laugh at Sid and tease him for hours as soon as they saw any reason to do so.

Louis the molehog, Peaches best friend, was not on the scene. He was fast asleep in his burrow.

And Sid's cranky old grandmother was tied to a tree by her walking stick, perpetually sleep-shuffling around and round the trunk, calling for her pet whale Precious. Granny was often very rough with her grandson, whacking him on the head whenever he woke her up or surprised her.

'_Then who can I talk to?'_

Sid's eyes suddenly darted towards two empty spots near the centre of the clearing. These had once belonged to the sabre-tooth tigers, Diego and Shira.

Diego was another of the original members of the herd. At first, he had only joined to turn Manny and Sid into dinner for his pack, but had soon become close to them, and betrayed his leader.

Diego had also gone on adventures with the herd as well. He had learnt how to swim (from Sid) when a huge flood had threatened their lives; he had gone to save Sid from an angry T-Rex; and he had braved storms and huge waves during the continental drift.

But the biggest adventure the sabre had experienced yet was falling in love with Shira.

Shira was a lean, beautiful, silver-furred sabre who had once been a pirate determined to capture Manny, Sid, Diego, and Granny. But, along the way, she had fallen for Diego, and helped the group escape the pirates.

Now, Shira and Diego were officially mates. For their own privacy, they had moved into a secret cave somewhere up in the highlands about four months ago.

Moving in with a herd had softened Shira somewhat. She was now more caring and friendly than when she had been a pirate, although she was still sarcastic and joking.

Sid knew that Shira would understand his dream, even though her mate was often unhelpful on that subject. For she was killed in a field that very few mammals were: counselling.

Many animals (including various members of Sid's herd) had gone to see Shira for help for many issues ranging from personal problems to horrid nightmares. But whenever anybody asked her how she had learnt her skill, she would merely say, "It's a gift."

* * *

Sid's mind was now made up. He would go see Shira.

Even the fact that Shira and Diego's den was _supposed_ to be hidden didn't trouble the sloth. He had spied on the sabres, and knew the exact location of their cave.

The sloth slowly got up from his rock, tiptoed across the clearing, and out into the trees. Once out of earshot, he set off at a slow jog for the den.

* * *

It was not an easy route to the den. The ground was covered in thick grass and bushes that seemed to spring up right in Sid's path. The sloth fought his way through prickly bushes and up steep, slippery inclines. He fell over more than once. But he didn't stop trying.

After picking his way up a rocky hill, Sid finally came to a bank near a thick pine forest. There, half-hidden by bushes, was a small hole in the ground: Diego and Shira's den.

With a smile on his face, Sid waddled up to the hole.

"Hellooooo!" he called softly. "Anybody awake?"

There was a grunt from within the den. Then the sound of movement. And finally, Diego poked his tawny-brown, sleepy-eyed head out of the cave.

"Sid?" he asked in a sleepy voice. "How in the world did you find our den?"

"That's not important," Sid said sheepishly. "Listen, I _need_ to talk to Shira, I've had a dream and…"

"No, you can't," Diego snapped. "Shira is asle…"

"Shira is awake," said another voice from within the cave. "And, yes, he can talk to her."

Sighing, Diego stood aside to let the sloth into the den.

The sloth blinked as his eyes adjusted to the low light levels inside. Lying near the back of the den was a silver silhouette.

"I hope Sid didn't wake you up," Diego said to his mate.

Suddenly, the sloth remembered that sabres didn't like being woken up early. (Shira had once nearly eaten Crash and Eddie because they woke her up before dawn)

"Shira!" Sid exclaimed. "I am so, sooo sorry for waking you up! I really am! Sorry, sorry, so…"

"Sid," Shira giggled as the sloth babbled on. "It's alright. You didn't wake me up."

Sid looked confused. "Huh? But then who…?"

The sloth's answer came a second later as Shira came into full focus.

The silver sabre nodded at her stomach.

Her swollen stomach.

Her _pregnant_, swollen stomach.

* * *

A few weeks before Diego and Shira had moved into their new den, they had spent a particularly romantic night together. And not long after that, Shira had found out she was expecting.

Her three-and-a-half month long pregnancy had gone quite smoothly. Ellie had given Shira many tips and hints on how to cope with the problems and disadvantages of pregnancy. She had also told Shira about all the times Manny had panicked when she was expecting, much to the sabre's amusement.

Sid had offered to babysit. Manny, Crash, and Eddie had each offered to make mobiles for the cubs. And Peaches was to assist during Shira's labour.

Now, everybody was counting down the last few days before the birth. But as labour approached, Diego seemed to be getting more and more protective of his mate. Every time she winced he would instantly go into a panic.

* * *

"The cubs are kicking?" Sid asked in glee. "Can I feel?"

"What am I, a touchstone?" Shira asked in a false scandalised voice.

Sid's face sunk.

"Of course you can, silly," the sabre laughed. "I was joking!"

And before you could say, 'Six sloths sip broth', Sid was kneeling beside Shira, and placing a paw upon her bulging stomach. The sloth giggled as he felt the pulses coming from inside her.

Shira turned her face towards Sid "You said you had a dream that you wanted to talk to me about,"

Sid nodded. "I guessed you'd understand me. Even if my dream is totally crazy."

"Which it probably is," Diego said shrewdly.

Shira carefully readjusted her position, so she was comfortable while she was facing Sid.

The sloth laid down on a flat bed of rock.

"Why are you doing that?" Shira smirked.

"I don't know," Sid smiled. "It just feels relaxing. I think I've started a trend!"

"That'll never catch on," Diego shook his head.

* * *

Shira did not need to prompt Sid to run through his dream. Straightaway, the sloth was explaining every detail of his dream, from the flashing lights and screens, to the human's uniforms, to the shape of the strange starship. The only thing he omitted was the terrifying laugh and face at the end of the dream. He knew Shira did not want to see or hear about that mammal again.

When Sid had finished his description, Shira smiled at the sloth.

"It seems to me that you've had a perfectly normal fantasy dream, Sid. Nothing extraordinary there."

"Unless you count that it's extraordinarily _weird_," Diego added.

Sid ignored Diego's comment. "How do you know it's normal?"

"Because I've had dreams just as crazy as that one," Shira said.

"Unlikely," Diego snorted.

Sid still wasn't convinced. "Guys, this could have been a _sign_! Something big could happen! I mean…"

"Have you ever explored the possibility," Diego suggested, "that you want to believe this dream is a sign?"

Shira smirked at her mate. "Well, what do you know? Softie's been picking up on psychology!"

Diego sighed, covering his face with a paw.

"Captain Kirk, the human in yellow…" Sid said slowly, "…he said we were friends."

Shira nodded. "This dream could show a desire to have more friends."

She gave Sid an understanding smile. "Don't worry, Sid. New friends will show themselves in time. And you'll always have us."

The sloth smiled slightly. "Thanks."

Then he got up from his rock, and walked back through the cave entrance into the bright morning sunlight.

* * *

Once he was out of Diego and Shira's den, Sid sighed sadly. It would be another normal day for the sloth, which meant pestering Manny, sleeping, eating leaves, sleeping, falling down a cliff, and sleeping. Same old routine for the past six months since the Continental Drift.

"Still," Sid said to himself, causing a passing bird to look at him curiously, "I would like to go up there."

He looked up to the sky, where a nearly full moon still shone in the dawn light, and imagined himself flying through the stars again.

"Where no mammal has gone before."

* * *

**Sid: (**


	4. Chapter 1: A Quiet Birthday

**I've set this fanfic in an Prime Universe that could happen in this timeline. The events of the Original Series will still happen, with the addition of Decker as the First Officer. **

**Also, the technology is more futuristic, so as to keep up with our views. All the starships are more detailed, with more futuristic technology compared to TOS. The Enterprise looks more like the JJ Adams version, but with the classical orange Bussard Collectors on the warp nacelles (yes, that's what they're called) and slightly more traditional lines. It was also built in 2262 rather than 2245, just because I like the idea of a new _Enterprise_. ;-)**

* * *

22 March 2268 Lunar Orbit Stardate 4209.082

* * *

"_Captain's personal log, Stardate 4209.082._

_We are in high orbit around Luna, the Earth's moon. It's nice for Starfleet Command to let me come back home after years out in the far reaches of the galaxy. I must admit, I missed Earth._

_I'm hoping for a quiet birthday this year. I don't blame myself, not after last year's fiasco. We were trapped on a Gorn planet, hiding in underground caves for days. Having a peaceful event this time round is, as Spock would say, only logical._

* * *

Captain James Tiberius Kirk switched off his log recorder and spun around in his cabin chair. He was a tall, handsome human male, with light brown hair and matching colour eyes.

Daring, brave, and creative, Kirk was a model Starfleet captain. It was these qualities that had got him promoted to the rank of Captain at the age of 27, the youngest ever person of that rank in Starfleet. It was also his qualities that had seen him awarded command of the Federation's flagship, the USS_ Enterprise_, just a few years after Kirk's promotion.

And Kirk had commanded the _Enterprise_ ever since.

* * *

The Starship _Enterprise_ was one of the newest, largest vessels in Starfleet. Over 300 metres long from end to end, she was the flagship of Starfleet, and had the latest state-of-the-art weapons systems, warp engines, and sensors. Under the command of Captain Kirk, she had made first contact with countless alien species and participated in many major space battles, making her the most famous starship in the Federation.

And her captain was also the most famous in Starfleet.

Today, on his 35th birthday, hundreds of birthday messages had come through from hundreds of important people. Starfleet Admirals, the council of the Vulcan Science Academy, the President of the United Federation of Planets, and countless Starfleet captains and officers had all sent holo-mail messages through to James T. Kirk. He had so many messages, in fact, that he did not have enough time to read them all.

Suddenly, a tone from the PA system roused Kirk from his thoughts. "Captain Kirk, you are requested on the bridge."

"I'll be right there," Kirk replied, getting to his feet. Brushing down his yellow Starfleet uniform, he walked through the automatic doors and into the gleaming white, modern corridor.

It was not a long walk to the nearest turbolift shaft, placed close to the Captain's cabin on D-deck so that the commanding officer could get anywhere in the ship quickly in the case of an emergency.

Kirk entered the turbolift code, and stepped into the circular compartment that could race up and down its shaft at incredible speeds.

"Level, please," asked the flat, emotionless voice of the turbolift computer.

"Bridge deck," Kirk responded.

"Thank you."

With a hiss, the turbolift doors closed and the compartment shot up its shaft like a speeding bullet. In only a few seconds, the turbolift slowed and finally stopped as it reached the bridge. The turbolift doors hissed open, and Kirk stepped out onto the bridge…and couldn't help but grin.

* * *

The bridge of the USS _Enterprise_ had undergone a colourful decoration. The pristine white walls were now adorned with multi-coloured balloons and banners, and the consoles and railings were draped with streamers.

But it was the crew which made James T. Kirk smile. For every person on the bridge was wearing a small, conical birthday hat on their head, which clashed comically when worn with the proper red, yellow, and blue Starfleet Uniforms.

There was Communications Officer Lieutenant Nyota Uhura, an attractive human female with a black ponytail, dark skin, and a gentle smile. She was an expert in many alien languages, and had negotiated many peace treaties with countless extra-terrestrial races.

Lieutenant Commander Hikaru Sulu, the _Enterprise's _helmsman, sat at his decorated console. He was a quiet, calm, serious man who could keep a cool head even in the most intense battles, but easily join in the light-hearted, relaxed atmosphere of a party.

The ship's first officer, Mr Spock, stood next to his seat at the science console. Commander Spock was a Vulcan-Human hybrid, having the upswept eyebrows, pointed ears, and copper-based green blood of a Vulcan, while inheriting an appendix (Vulcans don't have one) and feelings (although only simple ones) from his human linage. While he did not understand many of Kirk's behaviours and interactions, Spock was one of the captain's closest and most loyal friends. His focused, neutral face looked extremely comical when paired with the already-amusing birthday hat.

Dr Leonard 'Bones' McCoy leaned against a railing. He was the _Enterprise's _chief medical officer, and another of James Kirk's close friends. His normally gruff face was now a pleasantly happy one. However, McCoy was the only one on the bridge _not_ wearing a party hat. Apparently, they were 'highly unsanitary'.

Ensign Pavel Chekov sat at the navigator's console. He was a handsome brown-haired Russian with a love of his country, a quirky personality, and a problem with saying 'v's as 'w's. Chekov was very eager about his job, and often the first to sign up for any exciting assignment.

And Montgomery Scott, the _Enterprise's _Scottish chief engineer, was on the bridge. A humorous, happy man at the best of times, the black-haired Scotsman looked right at home in the cheerful party environment.

* * *

"Many happiest returns of the day, Jim," Spock said in his calm, unemotional voice, handing Kirk a small, carefully wrapped package.

"Why, thank you, Spock!" the captain exclaimed, taking the present and carefully unwrapping it.

"I have observed you are a reader of classical Earth literature," the Science Officer continued, "so I thought this would be a particularly good choice."

Kirk finished unwrapping the package, to reveal an antique, real-paper book. The cover read _2001: A Space Odyssey, by Arthur C. Clarke._

"Och, I read it myself," Scotty commented. "Wonderful 20th century science-fiction. Ye cannae beat it."

"It celebrates its tri-centenary this year," Spock pointed out.

Smiling, James Kirk opened the book to the first page and started to read…or, rather, _tried_ to read.

Kirk was longsighted, which meant he couldn't see detail in close-up things. In this case, the text was too fuzzy and blurred to make out. Even when he held the book at arm's length away, the words were still unreadable.

* * *

Dr McCoy watched Kirk's struggle to comprehend the printed text in the book. _'Now here's where I come in,' _he thought.

"I got you these, Jim," he said, holding out a small bag.

Kirk looked up from the book, and took the bag from McCoy. "What is it?"

"Some more antiques for your collection."

James T. Kirk reached into the bag…and pulled out a pair of reading glasses.

"Bones! How charming," he smiled.

"They're four hundred years old," McCoy said, "and you don't find many of those with the lenses still intact."

The doctor grinned shrewdly. "Normally, I'd administer Retnax V to patients with your eyesight."

"But I'm allergic to Retnax V!"

"Exactly. Happy birthday, Jim."

Kirk fitted the antique glasses on his face, and looked back down at his novel. Now he could see every printed letter on every single page as clear as a crystal.

* * *

Mr Sulu handed the captain a large box, which, when opened, revealed a shining brass sextant. "It should go well on your shelf with your naval collection, sir," he suggested.

"Weren't you telling me I should start a collection of spacecraft models?" Kirk asked shrewdly.

Sulu laughed. "That's old now, Captain."

Then Chekov came forward with a small package. Kirk unwrapped the present, to reveal another book. "War and Peace," he read from the cover. "By Leo Tolstoy."

"It's a famous Russian nowel," Chekov explained. "Wery enjoyable. You can read it elewen times and you never get tired of it."

"Did you happen to read it eleven times, Mr Chekov?"

"Twelve, actually," Chekov said sheepishly. "Zen I got tired of it."

* * *

Suddenly, the captain realised that someone was missing.

"Wait. Where's Decker?"

"He's been at a Starfleet conference or ceremony of some kind," Uhura explained. "He should be beaming on board…about now, actually."

Just as she finished her sentence, a voice came over the intercom system built into the captain's chair.

"Transporter room to Bridge, Transporter room to Bridge. Captain Decker has just beamed up, and is requesting permission to come aboard."

Kirk noticed a few raised eyebrows in the bridge. The last time they had seen him, Decker had been only a commander.

"Kirk to Transporter Room, tell him that permission is granted," Kirk spoke into the comm.

"Aye, sir," the speakers crackled.

Mr Sulu turned around to look at the captain. "So Decker's got promoted, then?"

"Must have," Kirk said. "I'm sure his actions at the Battle of Organa would've counted towards that."

The captain stood up and turned around to face the turbolift doors…just as they hissed open.

And Willard Decker stepped out onto the bridge.

Decker was a dashing, blonde-haired young Starfleet officer with a quick-thinking mind and sparkling blue eyes. For several years he had been the _Enterprise's_ first officer, and had shown great dedication to his job.

"Happy birthday, Captain," Decker smiled, shaking Kirk's hand.

"Thank you, Will," Kirk smiled.

"I'm sorry for being late," the blonde-haired man said, slightly guiltily. Then his grin returned. "But I have good news!"

His smile widened even further. "I'm getting my first command!"

The bridge exploded into applause.

"Congratulations!" Uhura called.

"That's great!" called Sulu from the helm console.

Kirk clapped Decker on the shoulder. "Which one did you get?"

"The USS _Victory_," he answered.

"Ah, ze _Wictory_," Chekov observed. "I serwed on her once. She's a wery fine wessel, if you ask me."

"Indeed," Spock observed. "The _Liberty_-class starships were built to a very high standard, even of today."

Decker sighed sadly. "And, because of this, my duty on the _Enterprise_ is over."

Kirk smiled kindly, and shook Decker's hand. "Will, it has been an honour serving with you. Good luck."

"It has been a great honour serving with you too, Captain," Decker said, smiling.

"Thank you, Decker," James Kirk smiled.

Then a small hovertable floated over to Kirk, carrying a beautiful chocolate cake. It had rich, thick chocolate icing, and 35 virtual candles blazing bright.

Everybody gathered around as Kirk sat back down in the captain's chair. Then, the familiar tune of 'Happy Birthday to You' filled the bridge.

As he blew out the holographic flames, James Tiberius Kirk could not know that his peaceful birthday was about to be turned upside down.


	5. Chapter 2: Unwelcome Interruptions

**Yes, I'm cutting this chapter in half. I'm trying to get shorter, snappier chapters out now if I can.**

* * *

Just as Kirk was about to cut the cake, he heard a bell-like tone from the communications console.

Quickly, Uhura sat down at her chair and checked one of her holoscreens.

"Captain!" she exclaimed. "We are being hailed by Starfleet Command! It's a Priority Two message, sir!"

Kirk raised his eyebrows. A Priority 2 message was one of the highest-priority forms of communications in Starfleet. Although it was not as urgent as a Priority 1 message, a Priority 2 message indicated that a serious event had occurred. It could not be ignored.

"Just before we receive this message," Kirk announced, "I would suggest that everybody take their hats of now. I'm sure Starfleet Command won't approve of them."

With a few chuckles, the bridge crew took off the conical party hats and returned to their posts.

Captain Kirk gently pushed the hovertable carrying the cake out of the viewscreen's range-of-sight. "On screen," he called to Uhura.

The young lieutenant tapped her holoscreen, and at once, the large viewscreen image changed from the grey curve of the Moon against the blackness of space to the age-lined face, blue eyes, and grey hair of a familiar Starfleet admiral.

"Admiral Pike!" Kirk exclaimed.

Christopher Pike, a rugged, experienced Starfleet officer, smiled down at James Kirk from the viewscreen. He had inspired and encouraged the young man to join Starfleet, guiding him through the process of becoming a Starfleet Officer. Pike had been the first captain of the _Enterprise_, and had entrusted Kirk with that command when the aging admiral stepped down from the role of starship commander. Now Pike was one of the elite members of Starfleet Command. But he remained a close friend and mentor to Captain James Kirk.

"Good to see you, Jim. Happy birthday," Pike said.

"Thank you, Admiral," Kirk replied respectfully.

"I'm sorry to disturb your break," the admiral said, turning serious, "but we have a problem. A heavily damaged starship has returned from a mission to Betelgeuse. We need you to return to Starbase 36 for an emergency briefing at 0923 hours."

"Klingons again?" asked Kirk. Betelgeuse was very close to the Klingon Neutral Zone. Tensions were high between the battle-thirsty Klingons and the United Federation of Planets, and a war had been raging for many years.

Christopher Pike shook his head grimly.

"Worse," he sighed. "From what we've heard, much worse."

Then the image of the aged admiral flickered to the default Starfleet graphic that followed all messages.

* * *

There was silence. Nobody said a word, uncertain of what exactly to say.  
Finally, Scotty spoke up.

"Well," he said slowly, "I guess I'll be headin' back to Engineerin', then , Captain. If we've got a wee trip to make, the engine's will have to be primed."

"Good idea, Mr Scott," Kirk nodded.

Suddenly, Decker cleared his throat. Kirk turned around in his chair and looked up at his old first officer.

"Do you need another hand, Captain?" Decker asked.

Kirk smiled. "Certainly, Will. Welcome back to the _Enterprise_."

"Aye, sir," Decker replied, an ecstatic grin spreading across his face. Of course he was happy to be back on the _Enterprise_. After all, he had served on her ever since her commissioning in 2262. The _Enterprise _was his home, and he would always remember her.

* * *

In only a few minutes, the bridge of the Starship _Enterprise_ had been transformed back to its formal, orderly state. The holographic balloons and banners had been shut down, and the hovertable with Kirk's cake was on its way back to the galley. There was just one more thing to do before the _Enterprise _could get underway.

Captain Kirk pressed a button on his armrest, starting a shipwide broadcast to alert the crew to their new mission.

"Attention, please," he announced, and his voice sounded throughout the ship, relayed by speakers to every part of the vessel.

"This is your captain speaking. At oh-nine-eighteen hours, Starfleet Command issued a Priority 2 message ordering us to return to Starbase 36 for an emergency briefing. At this point, we have no clue what is going on, but by the sounds of things, it's very dangerous. We are departing immediately for Starbase 36. Kirk out."

Suddenly, he heard a chuckle from behind him. Kirk looked to see cynical Leonard McCoy, grinning an amused grin.

"What?" the captain asked innocently.

"There goes your quiet birthday down the drain," the doctor said shrewdly.

Kirk laughed. "Come on, Bones. All I asked for was a few days break, and I got that."

"More like a few hours."

Suddenly, Scotty's voice came over the comm.

"Captain, we're all finished down here! Are ye gonna keep us waiting?"

"Not a moment longer, Mr Scott," Kirk called into the in-chair microphone.

Then he turned to Chekov, who was sitting at his console, fingers hovering just over his touchscreens, like a pianist preparing to play a masterpiece concerto.

"Mr Chekov?"

"Aye, Keptin?"

"Lay in a course for Starbase 36, please,"

"Happy to, sir."

Chekov's fingers danced across his screens at lightning speed, as he set a course back to Earth.

Kirk turned to his helmsman. "Mr Sulu?"

"Aye, sir?"

"Take us out."

Sulu smiled. "Aye, aye, Captain!"

* * *

Outside, small blue lights emerged on the sleek white hull of the Starship _Enterprise_. Her ion thrusters pushed the vessel around, so that she was facing the distant blue orb of the Earth, millions of miles away.

Then her impulse engines burst into a bright orange glow, pushing the giant starship away from the grip of the Moon's gravity. Slowly but surely, the _Enterprise_ gained speed as she powered towards the Earth, until she was no more than a speck in the distance.

* * *

It only took a few minutes for the massive starship to reach Earth, a vast leap in speed compared to the three day mission that the Apollo crews had endured over 300 years ago. Now, floating a few hundred kilometres above the Earth, the _Enterprise _had reached the Thrusters Only Restriction zone that surrounded Starbase 36.

The planet Earth had not changed much since the beginning of the 21st century. Restrictions on burning fossil fuels and cutting down trees, mixed with pollution-removing technology had finally halted the rise in sea levels. And since the creation of the vast Lunar Cities, Martian Towns, and the formation of the Federation, the 20 billion-plus population of the planet was now spread across the Moon, Mars, and numerous planets light-years away from the Sol System, reducing the human population on Earth to around 5 billion people.

Through the viewscreen, Kirk, Spock, and the other bridge crew could see the shining form of Starbase 36 hovering above the deep blue Pacific Ocean. This spacedock was one of the newest Starfleet spaceports orbiting around the planet. It had a round, squat cylindrical body, from which ten docking piers protruded out. Up to 15 starships could dock at each arm at a time.

"Approach Control," Uhura radioed to the spacedock. "This is the USS _Enterprise_, requesting permission to dock. We are ready for docking manoeuvres."

"Affirmative, Enterprise," a voice crackled over the speakers. "You are cleared to dock at Arm 10, Position 3."

"Mr Sulu, lock on," Kirk commanded.

Sulu tapped his viewscreen. "Systems locked, sir."

"Starbase, you have control," Uhura called.

"We copy, _Enterprise_."

Spock raised his eyebrows at the short, business-like response of the approach officer. Normally, when they returned to Earth at the end of a long mission, the response was casual and welcoming. Of course, he didn't fully understand _why_.

Then again, it could possibly be that he had heard what exactly had happened. After all, it had been a Priority 2 alert. Humans were often emotionally affected by major events.

'_Humans…so illogical.'_

* * *

Slowly, the spacedock grew larger and larger on the bridge viewscreen. Their docking arm came closer and closer as well, with several gigantic starships, bigger than ocean liners, clinging to the gigantic silvery pier. Spock could identify two of the _Enterprise's_ sister ships, a Miranda-class scout ship, and several triple-nacelle Liberty-class vessels.

"There she is," Decker said happily, pointing to one of the starships on the viewscreen. Spock checked, and, sure enough, the name _Victory_ could plainly be seen on the saucer section of the vessel. "Beautiful, isn't she?"

"She is just like zat beautiful swan in ze famous Russian tale, 'Ze Ugly Duckling'," Chekov put in.

"That is incorrect, Mr Chekov," Spock said. "'The Ugly Duckling' was written by the famous Danish author, Hans Christian Anderson."

Chekov frowned. "Danish? No, I don't zink so,"

The _Victory _passed underneath the _Enterprise_, and more starships slowly passed by on the viewscreen. But as the new starship _John F. Kennedy _drifted under them, the bridge crew saw something clinging to its berth, hiding in the shadow of the spacedock…

Everybody on the bridge gasped.

"Fascinating…" murmured Spock.

It was the scarred, burnt, battered body of the USS _Tempest_. Only a week before, the Miranda-class starship had been pristine and unblemished as she set off for a routine patrol of the Klingon Neutral Zone borders, but now, she was a ruined wreck, a shadow of her former self.

Most of her port warp nacelle was missing, and huge chunks had been taken out of her rollbar. The saucer-shaped hull was dotted with black phaser marks and gigantic gaping holes.

"What could _possibly_ do that?" McCoy asked in wonder.

"Not even the most powerful Klingon warbird could inflict that degree of damage," observed Decker, his eyes wide with wonder.

Captain Kirk watched the battered starship drift past on the viewscreen, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

Finally, he turned to Spock, who was studying the damaged _Tempest_ intently.

"Spock, what do you make of it?" the captain asked. Spock could often give valuable information on situations like these. His analysis of every detail had saved the _Enterprise_ and her crew several times.

"Much of the photon torpedo damage is concentrated around the weapons systems, impulse engines, generator section, and warp nacelles. Phaser damage is concentrated around the bridge and hull. The pattern of attacks indicates that the attacker desired to disable the vessel first, before targeting the most crucial areas to destroy it. Whoever attacked the _Tempest_ knew exactly where to strike."

* * *

Slowly, the _Enterprise_ coasted past the heavily damaged hull of the _Tempest_, and slowly turned towards the docking arm. The gigantic starship carefully approached the pier, inching closer and closer with every passing second.

Finally, it came to a halt at its berth. Several large docking clamps locked the starship to the pier, and a long enclosed walkway swung out from the spacedock to connect with the side of the starship _Enterprise_.

Lights shone through the windows of the spacebridge. For a few minutes, they blazed steady and bright. Then, suddenly, they dimmed, as several silhouettes moved down the walkway into the giant spacedock complex.

* * *

**Thanks to KaylaDestroyer for her review!**

**Please review if you like it!**


	6. Chapter 3: This can't be good

"Thank you all for coming to this emergency briefing," Admiral Pike announced to Kirk, Spock, McCoy, Scotty, Uhura, Sulu, and Chekov, seated around a briefing table in the Emergency Briefing Room. "A disturbing report has come in from a heavily damaged starship, which may explain the disappearance of 67 Federation ships near the Betelgeuse Nebula over the past 4½ months. For further information, I am turning this briefing over to Captain Robert Walker of the USS _Tempest_."

Captain Kirk raised his eyebrows at the mention of the Betelgeuse Nebula. Ever since the starship _Barack Obama _had gone missing in November 2267, Starfleet had lost contact with dozens of starships near the Betelgeuse nebula – worryingly, even one of the _Enterprise's_ sister ships. Leaning forward, he watched Robert Walker limp up to the announcement podium. The normally humorous, energetic young man now looked beaten, pale, and frightened. A large cut ran across his cheek, and his right arm was in a cast.

"Good morning to you all," Walker said quietly into the microphone. His voice wobbled slightly as he spoke.

"A week ago, we were sent out to search for the missing USS _Cassiopeia_ near the Betelgeuse Nebula. Almost as soon as we got there, a navigational error caused us to accidently stray into the Klingon Neutral Zone, and straightaway, three Klingon Birds-of-Prey decloaked nearby and pursued us past the Betelgeuse Nebula…"

* * *

_The USS_ Tempest_ rushed through the black void of space, pursued by the three vulture-like Klingon Birds-of-Prey. Glowing green photon torpedoes and red phaser beams streaked through the vacuum, where they impacted on the hull of the Federation starship. _

_Another blast shook the bridge of the _Tempest_. Captain Walker clutched the arms of his chair and swivelled around to face his helm officer. _

"_Lieutenant M'Kurea," he shouted, "what's our status?"_

_M'Kurea, an orange-furred Caitian feloid, checked the readouts from her holoscreens. "Shields down to 49 percent, sir," she said softly – Caitian females always spoke in a quiet gentle voice, no matter what the situation – "and main power is down to 81 percent."_

"_Olson!" Walker called through the intercom. "Can you get the auxiliary power running?"_

"I'm doing my best, Captain!"_ the chief engineer cried. _"We're all a little shaken up down here!"

_Suddenly, one of the bridge officers let out a cry of surprise. Captain Walker immediately looked up at the viewscreen...and his mouth dropped open. _

_Floating in space in front of them was a huge debris field. Huge chunks of what only could be bits of starship hovered before them. _

_Every officer on the bridge – the tactical officer, Greg Reed; the communications officer, Selek; the science officer, Valerie Ward; and M'Kurea, the helm officer, were all staring at the debris field, frozen in sheer wonder and horror. Suddenly, another blast from the Klingon starships shook the bridge. _

_Captain Walker looked apprehensively at the debris cloud in front of them. But the Klingon Birds-of-Prey were rapidly closing in on them. _

_He had no choice._

"_Helm, take us into the debris field!" he ordered. "We'll be safer in there than out here."_

"_Aye, sir," M'Kurea purred, punching in commands on her touchscreens. _

_Slowly, the _Tempest_ coasted into the debris field, weaving through the spinning chunks of starship towards the centre of the cloud. Soon, she had disappeared from view. _

_The Klingon starships halted, confused, at the edge of the debris field. Unlike the _Tempest_, which was small enough to slip through the debris with ease, the Birds-of-Prey, with their two wide wings, could not fit through the tiny gaps between the huge chunks of debris. Instead, they changed course, and coasted around the debris field, their scanners searching relentlessly for the Starship_ Tempest_._

* * *

_Hidden inside the debris field, Captain Walker breathed a sigh of relief. They were safe from the Klingons. Now they had enough time to get the ship repaired and head back to Earth. _

_But then, glancing up at the viewscreen, he saw a large piece of debris, blackened and battered…but with a still readable registration on it. _

_A Federation registration. _

_It was the USS _Cassiopeia

_Gasping, Walker looked at another point on the viewscreen. Part of the starship _Kepler _floated nearby, its name still clear on the battered hull. A blasted section of the _Komagata Maru _could be seen just behind it. And countless other pieces of starship floated around the _Tempest_ as well…Federation starships. _

_Walker's hand started shaking in fury. _

_"Those Klingon murderers!" he growled. "They've killed thousands of innocent people!"_

"_I don't think it's the Klingons, sir," Valerie Ward said softly. "My scanners have also picked up several Klingon starship remains in the debris field. Over there," (here she pointed at a piece of debris on the viewscreen) "is the bridge section of a D7 class warbird. And I have identified part of a Romulan Dreadnaught, so that rules out the possibility of a Romulan attack,"_

_Captain Walker's mind was still clouded by fury. "Someone must have done this. Someone must have killed these people."_

"_You are right, Captain," Ward replied. "But who?"_

_Suddenly, a sensor indicator started beeping for attention. Ward rushed over and checked her screen. _

"_Sir!" she exclaimed. "I am picking up impulse drive energy signatures…from inside the nebula!"_

"_On screen," Walker said automatically._

_The viewscreen flickered from the countless pieces of debris in front of the _Tempest_ to the beautiful backdrop of the Betelgeuse Nebula. The three Klingon Birds-of-Prey were no longer patrolling the edge of the debris field, but now they were heading towards the colourful cloud of gas…where an ominous black shadow slowly approached them._

_Everybody on the bridge let out a gasp as a gigantic black warbird emerged from the nebula. _

"_Oh my God!" breathed Captain Walker._

_The huge starship powered towards the trio of Klingon starships. The icicle-like formations on its hull glistened in the starlight. The Birds-of-Prey looked tiny in comparison to the obsidian-black warbird. _

_Suddenly, the leading Klingon Bird-of-Prey fired a photon torpedo at the intruder. But the glowing green ball of energy merely dissolved into the warbird's shields. _

_Then the gigantic starship let loose all its firepower. _

_Scores of photon torpedoes and phaser beams shot out from the obsidian black hull. Within just half a minute, the flanking Birds-of-Prey had disappeared in twin balls of flame. _

_The lead vessel quickly turned around and rushed away from the warbird. But before it got very far, the black starship fired a quick round of photon torpedoes, and with a flash of light, the last Klingon starship disappeared in a ball of flame._

* * *

_All this was observed in horror from the bridge of the _Tempest_. _

_Captain Walker was frozen in fear, staring at the sight of the disappearing balls of fire that once were three fearsome Klingon Birds-of-Prey. _'That thing just destroyed some of the most powerful starships in the Klingon Navy. If it came to Earth…'

"_Captain!" cried M'Kurea suddenly._

"_What?" muttered Walker, preoccupied by his thoughts._

"_The warbird…it's spotted us!"_

_Eyes wide with alarm, Walker stared up at the viewscreen. Sure enough, the warbird was slowly but surely rotating towards them. _

_Everybody on the bridge knew what was going to happen to them in a few moments. _

_Walker immediately sprang into action. _

"_Turn us around! Full impulse power! Olson, I need those warp cores ready in a minute or we're all dead! We need to get…"_

BOOM! BOOM!

_Suddenly, the starship shook with multiple blasts from photon torpedoes and phasers. The bridge was plunged into darkness as the lights flickered out, and the vessel pitched and yawed violently. _

_Outside, huge chunks were being torn off the starship by the photon torpedoes and phaser beams. The port warp nacelle fragmented and the weapons rollbar shattered. Within seconds, the _Tempest_ had turned into a scarred, broken wreck of its former self. _

_Then, suddenly, the barrage stopped. _

_All was dark on the bridge. Then, slowly, the red emergency lights flickered into life. _

_Captain Walker opened his eyes and lifted his head. He was lying on his stomach on a floor littered with hunks of console, bits of wire and cable, and shards of screen. His body ached all over, and he could taste blood in his mouth. His arm felt like it had been dipped in a bucket of fire. He must have been flung from his chair during the barrage. _

_Walker slowly got to his feet, clutching his injured arm, and looked around the bridge. _

_It looked more like a battlefield. Several consoles had exploded, and their remains were belching out thick black smoke. _

_Most of the bridge crew were dead, slumped in their chairs or thrown to the floor, their faces blackened and burned. Only M'Kurea and Ward were still alive, but they both were badly injured. M'Kurea nursed a long gash on her arm, bleeding the yellow blood of her species. Ward had a bad head wound. _

"_You okay?" Walker croaked. _

_M'Kurea nodded mutely. _

"_I think so," Ward gasped._

"_Don't you want to get down to Medical?"_

"_I don't think Medical exists anymore, sir," Ward said, turning back to her console. Amazingly, most of her sensors and screens were still working. Tapping her holoscreen, she checked what readouts she still had. _

"_It seems," she said, "that a battle group of 9 Klingon D7-type battlecruisers have arrived and distracted the warbird."_

_Walker sighed in relief. They were not about to be turned into space-dust._

"_Captain!" crackled a voice._

_Captain Walker whipped around to see the communicator from the captain's chair lying on the floor. It was still working. _

"_Olson?" called the captain into the comm. "Is that you?"_

"_Who else?" said Olson. "It's a real mess down here, Captain. But we're all alright."_

"_Can you get us out of here?" shouted Walker._

"_The warp core's been rattled badly, sir, but we've got just enough juice to get us at least to Alpha Centurai. Thank goodness these starships can run on one nacelle."_

_Walker nodded, smiling despite his pain. "Valerie, what's our position?"_

_Ward checked her screens again. "We've been thrown clean out of the debris field, sir."_

"_M'Kurea? Plot a course back to Earth."_

"_Aye, sir," the Caitian said, tapping her screen with her uninjured paw. "Course plotted."_

"_Olson, are you ready?" Walker asked. _

"_Just, sir," replied the engineer. _

_Walker nodded. "Warp speed, M'Kurea. Maximum factor possible."_

_Slowly, the warp drive whirred into life. The _Tempest's _remaining warp nacelle glowed bright blue…_

* * *

"…and that's how we got here," Captain Walker finished. "Out of my crew of 380, 213 of them were killed. Thank you for your attention."

The young captain stepped down from the podium and limped back to his seat. Captain Kirk glanced at his fellow crewmembers seated around the table. They were all visibly shocked (except Spock) by the tale.

"I want to know who commanded that ship!" McCoy whispered to Kirk as another person stepped up onto the podium.

It was Admiral Nogura, a gruff, serious Japanese officer who had been in Starfleet longer than Kirk could remember.

"Captain Kirk," he began, "we want you to go to the Betelgeuse Nebula to investigate this mystery starship."

McCoy's eyes bulged out of their sockets.

Kirk felt like he'd just been punched in the gut. Slowly, he stood up. "With all due respect, Admiral, but do you think it's wise to send just a single starship, when that warbird can easily destroy a dozen cruisers?"

"A single starship," Nogura explained, "may be able to go unnoticed past the nebula and collect the valuable data we need. And the _Enterprise_ is fitted with the latest long-range scanners, so you won't need to get too close to discover more about that starship. Meanwhile, the Starships _Exeter_, _Oberon, Taupo, Victory_, and _Attenborough_ will be conducting a 'training exercise' in the Mutara System. It's fairly close both to Earth and to Betelgeuse, so they'll be able to give you assistance near the nebula or intercept the enemy if it comes to Earth."

These words did not at all comfort Kirk. "Admiral," he persisted, "that warbird has destroyed hundreds of starships and countless crewmembers. What makes you think that we won't go the same way?"

"Because you're the best in Starfleet," the admiral answered firmly. "If anybody can get out of that alive, you can. This meeting is now adjourned."

* * *

"Dammit, Jim, this is madness!" snapped McCoy as Kirk and his crew strode back into the pier.

"This is Starfleet," retorted Kirk.

"Jim, in case you weren't listening, that _thing_ has killed thousands. And if we go there, we'll be the next to die, whatever your revered Nogura says!"

"I agree with you, Doctor," said Spock flatly. "The chance of survival in a situation like that is less than 2.4%."

"Shut it, you green blooded, insensitive hobgoblin!" snapped the doctor.

"You may be right, Bones," Captain Kirk said, turning around to face his two friends. "But we've been in situations as bad as this before, and we've always pulled through. Remember that."

Just then, Decker walked up to his old captain. "Well…" he said slowly, "good luck on that mission, sir."

"Thank you," Kirk nodded curtly.

"I know you'll get out of this," Decker smiled. "Remember all those old missions? The M-113 salt monster? The Psi 2000 disease? The Romulans? You got us out of all of them."

Kirk managed a grin. "Yeah. Those were the good old days."

The two captains shook hands. Then they parted ways; Kirk heading up the docking bridge to the _Enterprise_, Decker continuing up the pier to the _Victory_.

"Good old days, my ass," grumbled McCoy. "I had more fun throwing up on the hyper-coaster in Atlantia when I was 6!"

* * *

**Yeah, I'm redoing some of the chapters, so they're a bit shorter and snappier...;-)**

**Please review if you like it!**


	7. Chapter 4: Getting Ready to Go

**Thanks to KaylaDestroyer for her review! **

**Yeah, I know I'm reusing bits of Chapter 2, but I thought it was getting a bit to long so I cut it into little bits. And sorry this chapter took so long to post up, but I've had a bad case of writers block.**

**Please enjoy the chapter!**

* * *

March 22 2268AD Martinique, Caribbean Sea

Stardate 4209.082

* * *

Martinique was in chaos. Mount Pelee had unexpectedly erupted and shattered the peace on this tropical paradise. One minute, it had been a typical sunny day for the thousands of tourists and locals. The next, their resident volcano was belching out fire and ash.

Soon the volcanologists would be in the firing line of the media for not predicting the eruption. To be honest, the scientists were just as confused as anybody. Their readings had only spiked just moments before the volcano erupted, and they had absolutely no clue why.

On the plus side, nobody had been killed. The first set of pyroclastic flows had been sent down the uninhabited northern slopes of the volcano.

But there was no doubt that there would be more. And who knows where they would be directed.

Already, most of the population had escaped from the island in luxury yachts, hover vehicles, private aircraft, and even a cruise liner. It would not be long before the rest joined the huge flotilla forming out in the Caribbean Ocean.

Already, the final few groups of people were racing to the last remaining air-going and sea-going vehicles, waiting impatiently to take them away from the quaking, shattering island.

* * *

However, one person was not joining the stampede to the remaining transports. Protected from the rain of hot ash by a heavy-duty jacket, with a large pack on her back, she headed _inland_, through the deserted ash-coated streets of Saint-Pierre. She did not seem to notice even as burning buildings crumbled around her, threatening to end her life with falling debris.

She had a starship to catch.

She turned down another street, lined with abandoned, half-destroyed shops and businesses. Right at the end of the lane was the empty town square – once a thriving green park bustling with people, now a dead grey wasteland.

But it was an open space. That was all that Nurse Christine Chapel needed.

Quickly, Nurse Chapel pulled something off her belt. It was a communicator; an instrument merely the size of a small 21st century flip-phone, but with far greater capabilities. It could be used to contact an orbiting starship, pinpoint a crewmember's location so he could be beamed aboard, and even project 3D holograms.

Chapel flipped open the communicator. "Nurse Chapel to _Enterprise_. Come in, _Enterprise_."

Another voice sounded through the speakers. _"Transporter room here. This is Lieutenant Kyle. We read you loud and clear, Nurse."_

"Request permission to beam aboard," Chapel replied to the transporter operator.

"_You might want to hurry up down there."_ Kyle sounded concerned. _"There's been another eruption."_

"Copy that." The nurse glanced up at the volcano looming above her. Sure enough, a fresh cloud of ash was billowing up from the crater…and a huge surge of volcanic material was rolling down the slopes towards Saint Pierre. "I'm ready."

"_Just hold on a sec. The ash cloud's interfering with your signal. It'll take me a moment to fix onto you. Keep your communicator open."_

"Understood." Chapel looked back up at the glowing avalanche barrelling towards her. It was getting closer and closer by the second.

'_Please, guys…hurry up.'_

* * *

_Scrat raced through the ash-coated streets and alleyways, dodging collapsing walls and tumbling chunks of debris. He had nearly been incinerated, crushed, trod on, and trapped so many times today. And now he was running from yet another pyroclastic flow that would instantly burn his body to a crisp. _

_Why was he always running for his life?_

_Ahead of him was a large clearing. Standing right in the centre of it was a human figure. Normally, Scrat would have been frightened of a human, but a volcanic eruption was much more terrifying to him than anything else. _

_He made for the figure at top speed. _

_On the figure's back was a strange backpack. Scrat had seen humans carrying similar packs as they travelled to a new campsite. Once or twice, he had leaped into the packs and hitchhiked with the humans…at least until he was discovered or realised the humans weren't actually going where he wanted to go. _

_But if this human had a pack, she was probably going somewhere. And if she was going somewhere, it must be away from imminent death by suffocation and burning. _

_Anywhere except here was good for Scrat. _

_One of the bag's pockets had been left unzipped. With a flying leap, Scrat plunged into the pocket. He nestled down into the warmth of the pack, trying to ignore the tremors that continued to shake the ground. _

_Suddenly, he felt a strange feeling of disorientation. Even though he had been still only a second ago, now he was suddenly spinning around and around, getting dizzier and dizzier by the second…_

…_and then the dizziness stopped. In its place was deathly stillness and a brilliant white light shining in through the narrow opening._

"Good to see you again, Nurse. Did you have a good holiday?"

"Well, John, apart from the very large volcanic eruption that completely devastated the island, it was great!"

"Nice that you enjoyed yourself. I'd love to set foot on Earth again. Anyway, you've got to be decontaminated before you get back to Sickbay, or McCoy's going to have a fit."

_Something was going on, although he didn't know what. Scrat could only curl up in a ball and hope that he wasn't found._

"Alright. I'll just put this back in the bag."

_Suddenly, the zipper was pulled open by two pink hands. Scrat found himself looking up into the wide blue eyes and startled face of a blonde-haired human female. _

"Oh my GOD-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"  
_The woman leaped back with a high-pitched scream not unlike that of the prehistoric humans as they were about to butcher their prey. As far as Scrat could tell, he was about to suffer the same fate._

_He screamed._

* * *

Within minutes, the Starship _Enterprise_ was ready for departure. Every crew member was at his or her station. Scotty was in Engineering, warming up the warp cores and scolding another crewman. (_"How many times do I have ta tell you? Use th' right tool for th' right job!") _Uhura was sitting at Communications. Sulu and Chekov were at the helm and navigation consoles. Spock was conducting a routine check of the ship. McCoy was in Sickbay. And Captain Kirk sat in the captain's chair.

"All hands," he called into the comm. "This is your captain speaking. We are about to depart for the Betelgeuse Nebula. I want everybody ready for a possible battle by the time we get there. I need Damage Control ready to contain and repair possibly heavy damage. Thank you for your attention."

Spock appeared from one of the twin turbolifts. "Engineering reports ready for warp, Captain, and the transporter room confirms that Nurse Christine Chapel has been beamed aboard."

"Thank you," Kirk replied, turning to the helmsman. "Mr Sulu, thrusters, please. Take us out."

"Aye sir," replied Sulu. "Moorings retracting. Thrusters fired."

Slowly, the sleek starship separated from the docking arm and coasted away from the spacedock, out towards the starry backdrop of space. Earth quickly fell behind as the _Enterprise _headed out for open space.

* * *

Kirk turned around to face his bridge crew. "You all know this mission could be extremely dangerous," he began, "so I understand that some of you may be feeling nervous…"

"Captain," interrupted Uhura. "You heard what Nogura said. You're one of the best in Starfleet. With you, our chance of survival is much higher."

Everybody nodded in agreement.

Kirk couldn't help but feel touched by his crew's trust and Uhura's kind words. "Thank you."

"Sir," reported Mr Sulu. "We have cleared the Warp Restriction zone."

"Route to Betelgeuse Nebula is plotted in," Chekov added. "All phaser banks and photon torpedoes awailable at your command, Keptin."

Kirk grinned. The jump to warp speed always excited him. No matter what it led to.

"Warp speed, Mr Sulu!"

Sulu smiled, punching a large lever in the centre of his console forward.

Outside, the impulse engines died down, and the two long warp nacelles began to glow. Controlled matter-antimatter reactions produced the energy needed to deform the very fabric of space-time.

The space around the starship started to ripple as the warp drive got to work…then, with a bright flash and a streak of light, the _Enterprise_ disappeared from view as it leaped past the speed of light.

* * *

**Please review if you like it!**


	8. Chapter 5: Revealation

"_Captain's log, supplemental. _

_We are now en route to the Betelgeuse Nebula. Scotty has got the ship up to Warp 7 – an impressive feat at short notice. _

_My 'quiet' birthday was cut short, just as predicted by Bones. Ever since starships have started disappearing, people have been on edge, but now we know what's been destroying them. A gigantic warbird, apparently over three times as big as a D7 class battlecruiser, has been destroying ship after ship from every known race in the galaxy. _

_And, of course, _we've_ been sent to investigate. _

_Bones isn't at all happy about it. I'm not comfortable either, putting the lives of hundreds at risk, but orders are orders. There's nothing I can do about that. _

_At least my crew trusts me. We've been through a lot together: that salt monster; the Romans on planet 982-IV; the Planet Killer; the mirror universe; and much more. Every time, I've pulled them out of seemingly no-win situations. _

_I only hope that I can pull us out of this one."_

* * *

"What the hell _is it_?" Dr McCoy asked in wonder as he and Nurse Chapel watched the tiny creature sniffing about on the floor of the brig cell. "Apart from incredibly fast and small and potentially carrying dangerous diseases?"

"I don't know," Chapel replied, "but he looks cute."

"_Cute?!_ My God, woman! We've been chasing that thing around the ship for at least an hour! It could bring the whole crew down with rabies! And you still call it _cute?_"

"Relax, Doc. You can treat this thing for rabies, can't you?"

"I can give that little…_whatever_ it is a vaccine for quite few infectious viruses. I always keep a few cases of around, just in case we run into some disease-ridden, 9 foot high furry alien again. And I intend to hypospray this thing once we can get it under anaesthetic."

Smiling despite the doctor's moody manner, Nurse Chapel focused her attention on the furry little squirrel-like creature still sniffing about inside the brig. It was the only place, they had decided, that could hold him. They had tried keeping him in a cage inside sickbay. When that hadn't worked, they had tried locking him in a . And after he had managed to find his way out into the _Enterprise_ corridors, it had taken over half an hour just to catch him, and another 10 minutes to get to the brig.

Thank goodness Bones had found a way to keep the creature busy. By spreading scent trails across the floor and placing a variety of pot plants inside the normally bare cell, they had created a maze for their specimen to navigate through (and over, in some cases) to keep him occupied. Hopefully he wouldn't escape again.

"What are we going to call him?" Chapel asked after a long pause.

"Excuse me?" McCoy whirled around. "Now we're going to give this thing a _name_?"

"Sure! I mean, he could be our new mascot! Once we got him vaccinated and everything!"

"Oh boy." The doctor sighed and turned away.

The nurse stared hard at the creature for a few moments. Then her eyes brightened as she turned back to Dr McCoy. "Got it! Did you ever see the old 21st century movie series, _Reign of the Glaciers_?"

"Never even heard of it."

"Well, it's got these two squirrels in it, Scritch and Scratch, and they're always fighting over this acorn and causing big disasters." She took another look at the squirrel inside the brig. "He looks a bit like Scratch, but I can't call him that. What about…Scrat?"

"Whatever you say," McCoy grumbled.

"Yes, he's definitely a Scrat," Chapel smiled as she watched the squirrel clamber over yet another pot plant.

"Alright," Dr McCoy sighed. "I'm going up to the bridge. You stay down here and keep watch over your 'Scrat'. _Don't _let it escape. Got it? If it gets out, it'll be _your _responsibility to catch it and put it back in there!"

"Fine by me!" Chapel called over her shoulder as McCoy strode out of the sickbay. Then she smiled back at Scrat.

"You're not going to escape, are you?" she cooed. "No you're not!"

* * *

Captain Kirk warily watched the bridge viewscreen as the _Enterprise_ powered through the whirling vortex of light that was warp speed. It had only been a few hours since they had left Earth, but already they had travelled the 640 light years to the Betelgeuse System.

Now, as the seconds ticked down towards their arrival, everybody on the _Enterprise_ was on edge. They only knew what the mystery destroyer was, but not _who_ captained it. Thousands of hideous images and possibilities whirled around in many a crewmember's head.

On the bridge, every eye was locked on the viewscreen. Even Dr McCoy, who rarely left Sickbay, had ventured up to the bridge to 'meet his death face to face.'

Mr Sulu grasped the warp-drive handle tightly. "Dropping out of warp in five…four…three…two…one."  
He pulled the lever backwards.

And the _Enterprise_ immediately dropped out of warp speed…and hurtled directly towards a huge chunk of spinning, disintegrating debris that completely filled the bridge viewscreen.

"EVASIVE MANOUVERS!" shouted Kirk. "All decks, _red alert_!"

Sulu typed furiously at his console, as sirens wailed and emergency lights blazed crimson. The Starship _Enterprise_ quickly banked around the debris…but not quick enough.

There was an awful, tortured screech as the debris scraped along the ship's hull.

Then there was silence.

Everybody breathed a sigh of relief as the _Enterprise_ drifted to a halt in the centre of the debris field.

"Damage report," Kirk requested.

"Minimal structural damage," reported the Engineering officer. "Hull integrity holding at 100%."

The captain nodded. "Nice to know that we're still intact. Mr Sulu, take us to the edge of the debris field. If we can find our way out of this mess we can do our scans and get out of here."

"Aye, sir." Sulu's fingers flew across his screen, sending commands through Engineering to the impulse engines.

The _Enterprise _slowly powered forwards, carefully weaving its way in between the wreckage of countless starships. Finally, it coasted to a stop at the edge of the cloud of debris, right at the border of clear space. Ahead of them was the swirling Betelgeuse Nebula, with the Betelgeuse star within glowing an ominous blood red.

"Mr Spock, scan inside the nebula," Captain Kirk ordered. "All elements. All energy signatures we know of."

The science officer nodded, typing the necessary commands on his console.

Then Kirk turned to the communications officer. "Uhura, check for any transmissions on all frequencies. Just in case they have friends."

"Aye, sir," Uhura responded, turning to her console and fitting two tiny headphones into her ears.

* * *

Spock checked the many readouts on the many screens and holographic displays at the science console. The scan of the nebula had just finished…but there were no readings of any kind.

The half-Vulcan's eyebrows furrowed even further than normal. This did not add up. There was no way that the mystery warbird could have left the Betelgeuse Nebula, or the many monitoring stations along the edge of the Neutral Zone would have picked it up. And yet…there was nothing inside the nebula.

'_Fascinating.'_

"Captain," Spock said, "Our sensors are not picking up anything inside the nebula."

Kirk whirled around in his chair. "They can't have left the system. The stations would have picked up their signal, and we haven't received any messages of the type from around here."

"Unless the ship was cloaked, sir," Sulu put in. "Remember the Battle of Organa? The Klingons were able to sneak past our early-warning stations with the Birds-of-Prey while cloaked."

"But now we've got more powerful sensors," Kirk retorted. "Cloaking technology can't have become so advanced over such a short time? Is there any interference from the nebula?"

"None whatsoever, Captain."

The captain sighed, staring back at the huge swirling cloud of gas on the nebula. "I've still got a bad feeling about this. I feel like we're being watched."

* * *

The bridge was dark, but spacious. Even the most claustrophobic person would still feel reasonably comfortable in its cavernous volume. Its ceiling soared over 12 feet above the smooth, slippery floor, and icicle-like formations surrounded all its consoles and crept up its walls. The shiny obsidian-black walls reflected the orange glow from countless screens, and a huge fish-tank sat next to the captain's chair. A large narwhal poked its head out of the tank, observing the above-water scene.

The figure that sat in the captain's chair was cloaked in darkness, unrecognisable by even a nocturnal K'puran, a species which was reputed to have the best eyesight in the galaxy. But the rest of the crew, illuminated by the orange glow of the screens and the sickly yellow lights located around the bridge, were completely visible and recognisable.

A purple-furred giant kangaroo sat at the weapons console, while a rabbit stood to attention beside the captain's chair. A bristly-haired boar monitored the security console. A sleek-furred badger with an unusual skull-and-crossbones pattern on his back sat at the helm. Bouncing in from Engineering was a flabby elephant seal wearing a blue mechanics cap. And a blue-footed booby with a cap of red feathers monitored the science console. Everything was normal and relaxed on the bridge…until one of the monitors started beeping for attention.

* * *

"_Mon Capitaine_!" cried the blue-footed booby in a voice thick with a French accent. "I am picking up another starship in our sector!"

The figure in the captain's chair grinned, turning to his science officer. "What kind, Silias?"

Silias tapped at his screens with a foot. "Federation Type 17 _Constitution_-class heavy cruiser. Crew of 430, 5 photon torpedo launchers, 22 phaser banks."

"Ooh!" chuckled the figure. "Heavily armed! Isn't she, Mr Squint?"

"But no contest!" cackled Squint, the eager, hyperactive rabbit. "We'll blast them _right_ out of this universe!"

"But I _do_ think that would make a nice change, wouldn't it, Raz? Something that fights back?" the figure went on.

"Ya betcha, sir!" cheered Raz, the kangaroo at tactical, punching a fist into the air. She had not had a decent target to shoot at since the Klingon battlecruisers discovered them almost a week ago. Now she was looking forward for something new that would fight back.

The figure reclined back casually in his chair. "Prepare to decloak, boys! Raz, arm all weapons. Mr Silias, get ready to hack into their computers and upload all data. Mr Gupta…take us out."

"Certainly, sir!" sniggered the badger at the helm, his paws poised over his console as he prepared to pilot the ship forward….

"WAIT!"

Everybody whipped around in surprise. Their captain wasn't one to hesitate! What was going on?  
"Magnify the hull!" the figure ordered.

Silias obediently tapped at a button with his foot. The screen instantly zoomed in on the ivory hull of the starship sitting at the edge of the debris field.

There, printed on top of the saucer section, was a registration and a name.

_USS Enterprise_

_NCC-1701_

Squint grinned. "What are we waiting for, Captain? Let's get them!"

The rabbit lunged at the starship on the screen, as if he could destroy it just by slicing at the high-resolution image projected onto the viewscreen…

…and then a hand reached out and grabbed Squint by the ears.

"Now, now, Mr Squint," the figure said, hanging from a rope on the bridge ceiling. "I appreciate your eagerness to attack. But you all know that the _Enterprise_ is one of the finest starships, not just in Starfleet, but in the whole _galaxy_! She would be a worthy prize…the start of my new fleet."

Squint looked up eagerly. As First Mate, he would be in prime position to become captain of a new vessel.

The figure tossed the rabbit across the bridge and swung down (rather awkwardly, thanks to his prosthetic leg) to the floor.

"And Kirk and his crew are the most revered in the quadrant," he continued. "I'm sure, with a little…_persuasion…_they could serve us well."

The silhouette sat back down in the captain's chair. "Disarm weapons, Raz. Mr Gupta?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Ahead, one quarter impulse power. Let's be friends…for now."

* * *

At the science console of the Starship _Enterprise_, several crucial readouts suddenly jumped to life.

Spock quickly checked the stream of new information, his eyes narrowed with concentration as he deciphered the complicated scientific readings.

"Captain!" he exclaimed. "I am picking up impulse drive signatures from inside the nebula."

"Spock, are you sure?" Kirk demanded, whipping around to face his science officer.

"There can be no doubt, Captain."

"Arm phasers and photon torpedoes, Mr Chekov!" the captain ordered instantly. "Go to Battle Alert."

Immediately, the bridge lights flashed crimson and klaxons wailed. All eyes were on the viewscreen, waiting for something to appear.

For a few seconds, there was nothing.

Then a huge black shadow materialised inside the nebula and started to coast towards them. Slowly, it grew closer and closer…until something huge emerged from the swirling foggy gas.

"Oh My!" breathed Mr Sulu.

Kirk gaped as the giant warbird powered towards them. Even when he had heard Captain Walker's tale, he had never fully realised how big the starship was. It was over twice as long as the _Enterprise_, and almost five times as wide, easily overshadowing the Federation starship. The jagged formations on its hull seemed like the tips of countless knives directed at his crew…or perhaps it was Kirk's imagination playing tricks with him.

It coasted silently towards the _Enterprise_. Then it halted just in front of them.

Everybody on the bridge waited with baited breath.

"We should be dead by now, dammit!" McCoy muttered. "What are they _waiting_ for?"

* * *

Suddenly, there was a beep from the communications console.

"Captain!" Uhura called suddenly in a nervous voice. "We're being…hailed."

Everybody stared at each other with wide eyes. What was going on? Why did the mysterious captain, who had destroyed so many other ships without second thought, want to contact them?

Kirk glanced over at Uhura. "On screen," he ordered, trying to regain as much of his composure as he could. He would not let an enemy who could destroy his ship and his crew in a flash see his fear.

Instantly the viewscreen leaped from the obsidian-black warbird that filled their sight to an equally dark bridge, lit only by the lava-orange glow of numerous screens. Several metallic ropes hung from the ceiling. A kangaroo, a rabbit, a blue-footed seabird, and a large boar could be seen monitoring several consoles. And sitting in the captain's chair was…a large, dark-furred, 8-foot tall ape.

His hair was shaped like an ancient mariner's tricorn hat, and several gold fillings sparkled from his grin of dirty teeth. In the place of his right eye was a metal eyepatch. One of his fingers was missing, and where there had once been a foot, there was only a metal peg-leg. The ape's body was scarred in many places, but, despite his wounds, he radiated power and pure evil. Not somebody you'd like to meet in a dark narrow alleyway.

"Hello, Captain Kirk," he said in a deep voice that sent chills down Kirk's spine.

"How do you know my name?" the captain gasped, staring in amazement at the monkey. _'Not to mention how do you know how to speak?'_

"You are one of the most famous captains in the galaxy, are you not?" the ape grinned. "Every single lifeform knows at least your name!"

"Who are you?" Kirk demanded.

The ape laughed. "Forgive me, Kirk. I am Captain Gutt of the _Sweet Revenge II_. Allow me to extend the proverbial hand of friendship." He extended a paw towards the _Enterprise's_ captain.

"Come on," Kirk muttered. "Anybody could tell that's your _foot_."

A shadow passed over Gutt's face. But it was gone in the blink of an eye, replaced with an unsettling smile.

"Nothing gets past you, does it, Captain?" he chuckled. "And neither would it get past your first officer, I suppose. Isn't that right…_Mr Spock_?"

Spock cautiously stood up and faced the imposing ape.

"That is correct," he answered cautiously.

Gutt laughed. "Such a Vulcan response. So _logical_."

Spock continued to stare curiously at the ape. "It is also logical to wonder how you got here. You are a _Gigantopithecus Blacki_, a species of ape which lived exclusively on Earth, and went extinct over 10,000 Earth years ago. You are not of this era. I believe I speak for all the crew when I ask this: how did you get here?"

"Now, you see, Mr Spock, that is a very interesting story," the ape said casually, picking a yellow banana from a large bunch of the fruit hanging next to his chair.

* * *

_"I was once a pirate captain, not only of my own ship…but of all the oceans. I was the Master of the Seas. But then a mammoth came along with his misfit friends. He was called…Manfred." Gutt spat the name out like a curse. "He refused to join my crew, even though I had saved him from dying at sea! He only wanted to get back to his family. So he destroyed my ship, and when I built another one, he stole it from me and headed back to the pile of rubble that was his home._

_I captured his precious mate and daughter, and attempted to destroy him. But his friends freed his family…and he defeated me! I was mauled by sirens. They took my eye and my leg. My loyal crew (here the assorted animals on the bridge nodded and laughed heartily) came back for me, and took me aboard their raft. But just as I was laid on the deck, a lightning storm sprung up. We were pulled into the dark clouds by a tornado of lightning…and into a huge rip in the middle of the storm. We were sucked into blackness._

_I awoke strapped to a bed, surrounded by strange men with bumpy foreheads. They had replaced my leg with a metal one and given me an eyepatch…but that was where their kindness ended. They told me they would find out where I had come from by any means possible, then send me to their gladiatorial contests to be slaughtered._

_But I broke free. I killed those men and freed my crew. And I found out where we were._

_I was on board an experimental Klingon spaceship, so large that it could take on 10 battlecruisers at a time and win. It only needed a minimal crew to run it...so it was perfect for us._

_Only we had no clue what to do with it._

_But in its cargo hold was a strange, rectangular device. Black all over, with its dimensions in the ratio of 1:4:9. Out of curiosity, I touched it._

_And then my mind was opened to the wonders of the universe. I instantly learnt everything the device knew; the names of planets; the types of stars…and how to run a hijacked Klingon starship._

_My crew shared the knowledge with me. With the ability to run our new ship, we took it to a distant Romulan facility. Using adapting technology stolen from a distant alien race, I customised our starship with more powerful engines, stronger weapons, and a look that would remind me of my old commands._

_We travelled to here, the Betelgeuse Nebula, to form a new strategy. We began our reign of terror."_

* * *

"...And so here we are now," Gutt finished. "Stronger than ever before."

Kirk frowned. "_Captain_ Gutt, may I ask you a question?"

"Go ahead," the ape grinned, biting into the banana.

"You've destroyed hundreds of ships and thousands of lives from every known planet in the galaxy. But you haven't even touched us. Why?"

Gutt's face darkened again. "Your kind, Kirk, once did something to me I can never forgive them for. They must pay for that. I intend to destroy every last one of them."

Kirk stiffened in shock.

Then the ape smiled. "But you, and your crew, Kirk, are fearless, bold, quick-thinking men. Values that I admire. I am willing to allow you and your crew to live…as long as you serve me. The _Enterprise_ is a fine ship, and you are a fine crew. Join me, and I can offer you the freedom to go wherever you want to; all the loot you could ever want, all the power needed to rule a whole system. Of course I'm not cruel enough to separate you from your beloved command, Kirk…"

Squint's face fell.

"…so, what do you say?"

Kirk could feel ever eye on the bridge focus on him. As captain, his decision would always determine the fate of everybody on the Starship _Enterprise_. But, in this case, it wouldn't only be the fate of the ship he was determining…it would be the fate of all humanity.

He had no choice.

"Do you actually think I would betray the Federation and join a tyrant set on destroying my kind?" he demanded, stepping forward to face Gutt. "I've already stood aside too many times and let innocent civilians die. My duty is to protect the them, and I will _never_ forsake that duty. The _Enterprise_ will never be yours, Gutt. Neither will her crew. Neither will I."

Gutt snarled. "So be it. You've chosen your own fate, Kirk. But the _Enterprise_ will still be mine."

A console beeped in the background, and the ape smirked. "Oh, and thank you so much for letting us upload your computer files. I'm sure we'll all enjoy studying the world of Starfleet's _top-secret_ files, won't we?"

"WHAT?!" Kirk yelped.

Gutt laughed. A terrible deep chuckle that sent waves of depair though Kirk's already shocked body.

Then the image of the ape flickered out.

* * *

**Gutt: It's MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!**

**Diegorules483: Yes, yes, we know that. You don't need to keep reminding us that you're back.**

**Gutt: (gives Diegorules483 death stare) You ought to be more polite to the Master of the Galaxy, insignificant little human!**

**Diegorules483: Yeah, but I'm also the author of this fanfic! Without me, you wouldn't even exist! **

**Gutt: ...Right...**

**Diegorules483: Plus, I was the one who decided to bring you back in the first place! You're the best villain in the Ice Age series! Honestly!**

**Gutt: Thank you. I am touched...for now. (leaves)**

**Diegorules483: ...Better start looking up more complements for evil villains with anger management issues, then.**

**Please review if you like it! **


	9. Chapter 6: Out of the frying pan

Kirk was shocked. Who wouldn't be, after they had met a talking prehistoric ape who had stolen Starfleet's top secret data files and threatened to destroy humanity?

'_He hacked into our computer. He took all of the high-security Starfleet tactics files, secret passwords and mission catalogues. All of them._

_And now he could shut down the Earth Defence Systems. And even if we managed to stop him destroying Earth, then the Klingons, the Romulans, and all the other vicious, power-crazy races in the galaxy could take over the planet and wipe us out…_

_And what about these experimental Klingon battlecruisers? If they're making more of them, they could win the war…_

"Captain!" exclaimed Spock.

"What?" the captain muttered, lost in his whirl of thoughts.

The half-Vulcan's normally calm, flat voice rose slightly with urgency. "They are locking weapons on us!"

_That _was enough to wake up Kirk. His eyes darted up to the viewscreen, and the huge bulk of the _Sweet Revenge II_.

Unfolding out of its hull were giant racks of high-power missiles, themselves larger than most Starfleet vessels. Phaser emitters emerged from the obsidian-black icicle formations encrusting its wings. Photon torpedo launchers opened like the gaping mouths of many hungry animals.

And all this advanced, powerful weaponry, enough to destroy a small planetoid, was directed straight at the _Enterprise_.

"RED ALERT!" bellowed Kirk. "SHIE…"

_BOOM! BOOM! _

A volley of photon torpedoes and phaser beams blasted out of the _Sweet Revenge II_, slamming into the _Enterprise_. The smaller starship shuddered under the sustained attack.

* * *

On the quaking bridge, klaxons blared, emergency lights flashed crimson, and instruments squealed and chattered, all competing for attention. But the bridge crew ignored the cacophony of sound and light, putting their heads down and focusing on the much more important task of avoiding the fire from the giant warbird.

"Missiles incoming, 249° mark 3," reported Spock.

"Sulu, evasive manoeuvre Gamma 7!" ordered Kirk.

Mr Sulu instantly complied, his fingers flying over his holoscreen, sending commands through to the impulse engines and thrusters.

Manoeuvre Gamma 7 was the most difficult in Starfleet. Involving a hard turn, a steep dive, and a roll all at once, it could be fatal in the hands of an ordinary pilot.

Hikaru Sulu, however, was no ordinary pilot.

He carried out the manoeuvre with the precision and calm of a pro, and the _Enterprise_ followed suit. Banking around hard a port, she neatly rolled and dropped under the two missiles that otherwise would have slammed directly into her secondary hull.

But as soon as the starship completed the manoeuvre, the torpedoes quickly looped around and slashed across her hull.

* * *

The bridge was now in chaos. Officers shouted out reports all at once, filling the air with a babble of commands, requests, and reports.

"Torpedoes incoming, 019° mark 9…"

"She's matching our every move, sir, I can't shake her…"

"Hull integrity in Zone 14-R reduced to 66 percent…"

"Shields down to sewenty-two percent, Keptin!" Chekov barely managed to make himself heard over the competing clamour. "If zis keeps up zey'll be down in minutes!"

"Well, fire back!" McCoy snapped, clinging to a railing so tight his knuckles had turned white. "Don't just sit there doing nothing!"

"Don't you zink I'd have already _tried_, Doctor?" Chekov replied tersely. "Our veapons have no effect against zer shields!"

"Well, that's marvellous!" the doctor muttered sarcastically. "Just marvellous!"

* * *

Despite the volleys of phaser beams and photon torpedoes that continued to pummel his command, despite the clamour of frantic voices, Kirk remained calm and focused. Years of experience in battle had taught him not to panic, no matter what. Keeping a clear head could allow a starship captain to focus on the battle, figure out a plan of action, and save his ship and his crew.

And his battle experience also told him something was very strange

"I don't see any sense in their attacks, Spock," he commented. "Most of them are glancing blows, only targeting our shields but not our hull. It's like he's purposely trying to _miss _us."

"Gutt did state that he wanted the _Enterprise_, Captain," Spock answered. "It is probable that he is merely trying to distract us…"

Suddenly, all the screens on the bridge flickered on and off. Readouts froze and shut down, only to restart a second later. Controls refused to respond for only a moment before returning back to life. Within seconds, everything was back to normal.

But essential bridge screens and controls didn't just restart, especially not on a state-of-the-art _Constitution_-class starship. Something was not right.

"Scotty?" Kirk yelled into his pickup. "What just happened?"

"_It wasn't me, sir!" _the engineer replied, his voice full of alarm_"Something's tryin' to hack into environmental control!"_

"Gutt is attempting to disable life support," Spock announced gravely from the science console, "All security and protection software has been automatically activated, but I estimate it will take them 38.169 seconds from now to bypass them."

Everybody on the bridge shared anxious looks. The stakes were so high now. If they weren't able to figure out an idea, the atmospheric pressure inside the _Enterprise_ would instantly drop to zero.

There would be no survivors.

"Turn off life support?!" McCoy yelped. "How the hell can they even _do _that?"

"Bones, cut the chatter," Kirk ordered. Precious time could not be wasted on unhelpful expressions of amazement. They had to figure out a way to get out of this mess and do it before Gutt could disable life support. "There's got to be a way we can escape."

"Sir, that ship can outgun us, outrun us, and out-manoeuvre us," Sulu pointed out. "If we try to get away, it's certainly going to match our every move."

"There is the Betelgeuse Nebula," Spock stated. "At full impulse from a standing start we can reach it in less than 3.194 seconds."

"But vhat about ze ionized gases?" Chekov queried. "Our shields and sensors vill be disabled by zem! If zat varbird comes back for us, ve'll be sitting ducks!"

"I'll take those chances, Mr Chekov," Kirk replied. "Scotty, get us out of here!"

"_You bet your life, Captain! Full impulse available at your command!"_

"Ten seconds to life-support shutdown," Spock reported. Even his rigid Vulcan discipline could not stop his voice rising slightly with anxiety.

Kirk's fist clenched as he turned to his helmsman. "Go, Sulu!"

And with the professional calm and speed of a pro, Mr Sulu obeyed. His fingers flying over his screen, he activated the impulse drive and pushed it to maximum power.

Straightaway, the _Enterprise_ leaped forward, accelerating to nearly half the speed of light in just a few seconds. Her impulse drive blazing, she shot into the swirling brown fog of the nebula…and disappeared.

* * *

"NOOO!" howled Gutt, slamming his fist down on his armrest. The _Enterprise _was gone, deep inside the Betelgeuse Nebula by now, where even his most powerful sensors could not reach. Kirk had tricked him, just like that stubborn mammoth…just like that treacherous sabress…

The crew watched their captain nervously. Gutt had the nastiest temper when he got in a rage. If they so much as spoke up, they would certainly be punished. They all had experience of that from their days in the Ice Age.

Suddenly, the fuming ape whirled around to the elephant seal behind him.

"Mr Flynn?"

"A-a-aye, sir?" Flynn whimpered, shrinking under the wrath of his captain. Ever since their encounter with the alien monolith device, Flynn had become quite smart. He knew a lot about Engineering and how to operate a 23rd century starship, almost to the point of being a know-it-all.

Which could be a problem, especially if his captain was making unrealistic demands.

"Listen here, blubber brain," snarled Gutt. "I want every last drop of power to our weapons. I'm not giving Kirk any more chances. The next time we catch a _glimpse_ of the _Enterprise_, I want it _destroyed_!"

"But…but Captain!" protested the elephant seal. "If we push the warp cores too hard, we risk blowing up the ship! And the auxiliary reactors are already strained just powering the cloaking device, let alone…"

With a roar of fury, Gutt swatted his chief engineer. "I don't _care_ what excuses you can give to me! Get this hunk of metal ready for battle in five minutes or face my _fury_!"

"A-a-aye, Captain! R-right away, Captain!" Flynn squeaked, shuffling towards the turbolift as quickly as he dared. He fumbled with the turbolift door switch for a few seconds before it finally opened, and he slipped inside and shut the door straightaway.

* * *

Silence fell once more upon the bridge. All eyes were once more on the still-seething ape standing, fists clenched, in the middle of the bridge.

Finally, with an angry sigh, Gutt sat down in the captain's chair.

"Mr Silas?" he barked. "Begin processing the new data from the _Enterpise_. Put it on the main screen."

"_Oui_, _Mon Capitaine,"_ Silas replied meekly, manipulating his controls with his blue-tinted feet. All the files he had uploaded from the Starship _Enterprise_ began to flash past on the viewscreen. The strengths and weaknesses for every Federation vessel…the plans for a new dreadnaught starship with linear transwarp drive…charts of the newly-explored regions of space…a map of starship activities over the next week…

Gutt's eyes narrowed. "That file. Open it."

Silas instantly complied. At once, the viewscreen was filled with a 3D map of the known galaxy, crisscrossed by thousands of tiny coloured lines.

"Magnify on Betelgeuse Region, Sector 13-R."

The screen zoomed in on the area around the aging supergiant star and the closest starship routes, with slowly moving dots marking the position of each and every starship. Info windows flickered into life above each mark, detailing each vessel's registry, class, and destination.

Several cargo ships were nearby, but too far away for one of Gutt's preferred surprise attacks. An Andorian starliner would cruise past in a weeks time, but again, too distant.

But one orange line curved right past the Betelgeuse nebula…just where Gutt wanted it to be.

Gutt's anger began to subside.

"Mr Silas, bring up all info on that ship and her current mission."

"_Oui_." The blue-footed booby tapped in another command on his screen, and the image of a small starship emerged on the viewscreen. It had a large ring-shaped warp nacelle and a comparatively tiny arrow-shaped main hull. Definitely a Vulcan vessel.

"Ze VSV _T'Pol_ is a _Seleya -_class science starship," Silas read from one of his readouts, "with a crew of 84. She is currently on a mission to ze Borama Asteroid field to test…ze new Red Matter device!"

"Red Matter?" Squint blurted out. "What's that?"

Silas brought up another file. "A form of antimatter manufactured from decalithium, zat, when exposed to regular matter, instead of annihilating, will…" He looked up at his captain, his eyes wide with amazement. "...it will create an artificial singularity!"

"A _what?_" grunted Dobson the boar from the security console.

"An artificial _black hole_!" Gutt breathed, his eyes lighting up. Forget a fleet of puny starships! This was the _ultimate _weapon! If he could get his hands on it, he could destroy an entire _planet_…and he could finally have his revenge on the humans.

They would all die in such a spectacular, _painful_ way.

For the first time since Kirk had escaped, Captain Gutt grinned.

"Let's get this Red Matter, boys!" he ordered, chuckling to himself. "As our dear Klingon friends would've said: revenge is a dish best served cold…"

* * *

The _Enterprise _drifted through the murky brown fog of the nebula, hidden by the swirling clouds of ionised gas. All that could be seen of her were her ever-present navigation lights, the red glow of her impulse engines, and her swirling orange Bussard collectors shining through the cloak of the nebula.

A cloud of unease hung over everybody on the bridge. They couldn't see anything but swirling gas through the holo-glass of the viewscreen. None of her sensors were working, and her shields were inoperative. They were flying a blind and defenceless starship.

But, for the moment, they were safe.

And with nothing to distract him, Kirk could now plan a strategy to defeat Gutt and bring him to justice.

"Uhura, as soon as we're out of the nebula, send a Priority 1 message to the _Exeter_, _Oberon, Taupo, Victory_, _Attenborough_, and all other armed starships in the sector. We'll need all the force we can muster to bring that warbird down."

"What should I tell them?" Uhura asked.

"That his ship is heavily armed and he seems to have a dangerous hatred of humans. Just leave out the bit where he's a prehistoric ape, though. I don't think they'd take that too well."

"Neither do I, sir!" the communications officer chuckled as she turned back to her console.

"Sir!" Sulu exclaimed suddenly. "The nebula's clearing ahead."

Sure enough, the dark clouds of gas were thinning ahead of them. That could only mean one thing: that there was a clear zone ahead.

A clear zone where they could find out where they were and get back to

"That's a good sign," Kirk murmured. "Let's take a look, Mr Sulu. What's the worst that could happen?"

"Can't think of much, sir," Sulu grinned, maneuvering the _Enterprise_ forwards, through the fog of ionized gas. Her impulse engines burning, she broke through the swirling gas clouds and into the clear patch. Coasting into its centre, she drifted to a halt.

* * *

As soon as she emerged from the nebula, her bridge screens instantly flickered back to life as the ion interference died down. Communications was still blocked, but sensors, navigational programs, and shields were all back online.

"We are in Betelgeuse Sector 29, Coordinates 56-87-21-04," Chekov reported. "From our current position we can warp straight to ze Mutara system without any major dewiations."

"Excellent work, Mr Chekov," Kirk nodded approvingly. "Set coordinates for Mutara IV."

"Aye, Keptin."

"Should I run a scan of the nebula, Captain?" Spock asked. "It would be logical. The data collected on the various gases would be most valuable to Starfleet."

"Go ahead, Spock. It'll make the scientists happy. They're mad about studying these pre-supernova emission nebu…"

* * *

Before Kirk could even finish his sentence, a brilliant flash lit up the bridge. Then another. And another.

Distracted from their tasks by the sudden bursts of light, everybody looked up at the viewscreen. What they saw was enough to

Zig-zagging through the void in front of the Starship _Enterprise_ was a huge lightning storm. Unearthly bolts of purple lightning flickered through space, quickly forming an ever-growing web of electricity.

"What the _hell_ is that?" McCoy yelped.

Spock checked his monitors, oblivious to the fact that the doctor's query had been purely rhetorical. "It is a concentration of static energy, similar to the lightning storms frequently observed in many emission nebulae."

"That can't be any ordinary lightning storm!" Uhura pointed out.

"You are correct, Lieutenant. While it displays many of the characteristics of a lightning storm, it appears to have no connection with the static charge of the nebula, and it contains enough energy to deform space, much like our warp drive. This is a lightning storm, but not as we know it."

Suddenly, a bolt of lightning reached out from the expanding web to impact on the hull of the _Enterprise_. The ship shook from end to end…and slowly started to drift towards the lightning storm.

"Deflectors up full!" Kirk yelled as more lightning arched out from the web to the _Enterprise_, seemingly dragging his command towards the storm. "Sulu, get us out of here!"

The helmsman struggled with his controls. "It's no use, sir! We're at full reverse and still getting pulled in!"

On the viewscreen, the lightning storm was getting stronger and stronger. Suddenly, in the middle of the web…a huge rip opened up in space, shining brighter than any star Kirk or his crew had ever seen.

Not even rigid Starfleet training could stop the terror that rose up inside every bridge officer.

"Scotty, I need more _power_!" Kirk howled into his pickup.

"_I'M GIVIN' HER ALL SHE'S GOT, CAPTAIN!" _Mr Scott shouted back, his voice nearly drowned out by the whine of tortured machinery. _"She cannae take much more o' this!"_

Kirk looked back up at the lightning storm, with the huge tear in space slowly growing closer and closer. Was this the end? Honestly, he was pretty frightened. He didn't want to die. Not here, or now. His gut instinct had always told him he'd die alone.

'_But then again, I'm only human. We all make mistakes.'_

But he'd made too many mistakes today. Taking the _Enterprise _to the edge of the debris field where it could easily be spotted, ordering his command into the Betelgeuse Nebula, taking his ship into the clear patch…they all led up to this.

But they had seemed like perfectly good decisions at the time. How had he been supposed to know this would happen? There was nothing he could do about his choices.

There was nothing he could do about _anything_ anymore.

All he could do, as his ship was dragged into the gaping rip in space, was close his eyes and wait for the end.

* * *

"Scrat, where are you?" shrieked a breathless, gasping Nurse Chapel as she sprinted through the corridors of the _Enterprise_. She'd been chasing the squirrel through the maze of curving passageways for minutes now, ever since he'd escaped from the brig.

She actually wasn't sure how it had happened. One moment it had all been calm and quiet, the next, a huge blast bowled her over. When she had looked up, the force-field cell wall had been disabled…and Scrat was gone.

'_Dr McCoy's going to kill me if he finds out.'_

Suddenly, the worn out nurse glimpsed a flash of grey fur disappearing around the next corner. Chapel instantly gave chase, following the jailbird squirrel as fast as she could.

"Scrat, _come back_!" she screamed at him. Then she remembered that he couldn't understand a word of English. Yelling at him would not help at all.

Sure enough, her cries had frightened poor Scrat even more. Taking off down the corridor, he raced through a door…and into the impulse drive control room!

"Oh no!" Chapel gasped. '_Who knows what Scrat could (unknowingly) do in there? He could injure somebody, he could disable the engines…he could destroy the ship!'_

She raced through the door after him. "Scrat, come out of there! Please, come…"

_BOOM_

Suddenly the ship lurched. Nurse Chapel felt herself knocked sideways.

Then everything went black.

* * *

Trapped inside a huge web of lightning, the _Enterprise _entered the glowing tear in space. First the saucer section, then the secondary hull, and finally the long warp nacelles entered the rip…

…and disappeared.

The flagship of Starfleet was gone.

Slowly, the lightning storm began to die down. The rip closed again, and the web of electricity fell apart. Finally, the lightning storm stopped altogether.

There was no sign that it had just swallowed the most famous starship in the Federation.

* * *

**Dun dun DUN! Cliffhanger!**

**Sid: I _haaaaate_ cliffhangers! I have to wait for _ages _before the next chapter!**

**Diegorules483: Tell me about it. NO, NO, not _literally_! **

**Sid: Well, there was this time when...**

**Diegorules483: (facepalms)**

**Good news: Pirates of the Ice Age 2: Dead Man's Meltdown should be posted within a week or two! :-D :-D **

**Please review!**


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